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APPLE BLOSSOMS
By Mildred Caroline Goodridge.
"Nettie Gordon is -coming home, I
hear," observed RichardTLane, meet
ing his friend, Levi Barnes, on the vil
lage street.
"And her sister Constance with
her," was the reply, and then the two
men looked strangely evasively one
into the eyes of the other, acting as
though they would welcome further
A Cry of Delight Broke From Her
Lips.
discussion of an interesting subject,
but each adverse to betray the desire
of his mind.
Richard Lane went on his way
deeply reflective. He was an odd,
studious young man. He looked more
grave and settled just now than ever,
for two things were pressing on his
mind he was trying to hide a secret,
he was in love hopelessly, he de
cided. The belle of the .village was Nettie
Gordon and her pretty younger sister,
Constance, stood next in favor with
the village swains. Richard and Levi
had known them for several years.
Both were constant visitors at the
Gordon home. They were a happy,
friendly quartette. Then came a
break. A rich relative in the city had
invited the girls to pass a social sea
son there.
No word of love had ever passed
between the couples. Richard was
deeply in love with Nettie. He believ
ed that Barnes was, too. In his hum
ble, self-deprecating way, Richard de
cided that Nettie, with her bright,
joyous ways, longed more for wealth
and gayety than the simple home life
he could offer her.
Then the two girls went to the city
and word reaching the village of their
gay, fashionable life there, both
young men concluded that the Gor
don girls would never settle down to
their old quiet life.
Richard amid his gloomy reverie
was addressed twice by a lady he was
parsing by unnoticed, before he look
ed up and recognized the mother of
the girls.
"I suppose you have heard that the
girls are coming home next week, Mr.
Lane?" she remarked.
"Yes, I heard of that," responded
Richard in his quiet, reserved way.
"It will be a great contrast to them,
this humdrum life after the gaiety
and variety of the city."
"It will be a welcome change, Net
tie writes, and Constance, too," said
Mrs. Gordon. "I judge from what they
write me that they crave the restful
ness of the dear old home and the
good, loyal friends they have known
so long. Nettie is quite ill. The city
doctor says she is on the verge of a
nervous collapse, the result of late
hours and continuous going about'
Poor Nettie! Her last latter told of
how she would love to get here just
as all nature was putting dn the green
and flowery garb of Spring beauty.
She said it would be like heaven to
look out of her bedroom window
. J. KW'A1